It’s striking how today’s readings focus on what we call the Prayer of Petition, the prayer of asking. The prayer the Lord teaches us is all asking: 7 petitions in St Matthew’s version and 5 in St Luke’s. The two stories Jesus tells – of the reluctant friend eventually getting out of bed, and of the good father responding to the child who’s badgering him – are all about asking. “Ask, seek, knock”, he says. Abraham’s discussion with God is a series of questions: will fifty righteous people save a sinful city? 45? 40? 30? 20? 10? Abraham came from a part of the world still famous for haggling and bartering. And the response to the Psalm is, “On the day I called [meaning, asked], you answered me”. “Ask and you will receive”
Prayer has many forms: giving thanks, praise, quiet contemplation, prayer in tongues, meditation, and so on. And we can look down on the prayer of petition. It can seem selfish or childish. But I think if we take the New Testament teaching on prayer as a whole, we find the Prayer of Petition at the heart of it. Our Lord, as man, as human, prayed for himself. He prayed to be saved from death. He prayed to be glorified. And he prayed for others and now in heaven prays for us. And for us too, asking is the most natural and immediate kind of prayer: for our own needs obviously and for those of others also . Parents pray for their children. Priests pray for their people.
It’s worth dwelling on this.
We ask one another for things for two reasons: one, because we feel a lack in ourselves, something incomplete, needs and, two, because we believe trust that the person we’re asking can supply our need, has the power to do so and the good will. And so it is before God. Certainly, as St Paul says, Christ has freed us from our sins and brought us into his kingdom. He has graced us. The Father has given us the Holy Spirit. But we know very well that the salvation we have is still a beginning, a foretaste, first-fruits, not yet the full security to come. And we feel the threat from the world, the flesh and the devil. We can say, if we’re living a sincere Christian life, that we’ve bought the ticket, are on the right train, and are heading in the right direction. But the train hasn’t arrived at its final destination. Who knows? Along the line there might be a cow on the track or a tractor stuck on a level crossing. And so we ask for help. Or, like Oliver Twist, we ask for more: more Holy Spirit, more light, more strength, more patience and so on. And we ask for others as well as ourselves. Yes, we are gifted by God, and can always give thanks. But, to say it again, the hands that hold the gift are wont to tremble. And so we petition, we ask. It’s clear the Lord likes this. He likes getting out of bed at midnight to give us bread for our friends. He likes giving his children eggs and fish. He loves to see us turning to him. He wants a relationship, a dialogue as with Abraham. This is the truth of who we are. As babies, we’re nothing but need, and as life comes to its close we become dependent again. When we pray, we’re being real about ourselves. This is the humble reality of our situation. Even in the prime of health and success, we’re not self-standing, omnicompetent heroes. And acknowledging this is not demeaning. We’re on track for Reality and joy and trust. We discover what a friend and Father we have. We realise, in our shared needs, how bound up with one another we are. We experience the beatitude of the poor in spirit. Theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
And here’s one final thought. The great petition of the Lord’s prayer is “Thy Kingdom come.” That petition includes every other, great and small, from freedom from headaches or backpain to an end to the horrors in Gaza, or peace of mind for a friend or for the many needs of the Church, for vocations and renewal, for the conversion of sinners and so on. “Thy Kingdom come” is the heart of Christ’s prayer and of ours. In every Eucharist, in every prayer, however specific, we’re asking that what began with his incarnation, death and resurrection, what began at Pentecost, might be completed. We’re asking for the Kingdom to come. And since he is the Kingdom in person, we’re asking for him to come. “Come, Lord Jesus” (Rev 22:20) is the final prayer of the Bible. It finalises every prayer we make. Every prayer in Christ is prayer for his Parousia. In all the dust and detail of everyday life, let’s try not to forget this. Asking is so good! It’s a mission the Lord gave us when he gave the Our Father. “Thy kingdom come”. As we age, prayer doesn’t necessarily become easier. Our minds can find focusing harder. Pain and discomfort take over. Or we’re just too sleepy. But something more important than prayers can happen; a person can simply become prayer, be prayer, their whole being a great asking, a great final cry from the Cross, the last word not just of the Bible but of our human reality: “Come, Lord Jesus”.
So, brothers and sisters, let’s keep knocking, seeking, asking!
St Mary’s Cathedral, 27 July 2025
